Revised, from 2021.
He was born
in a hospital
and somehow
became a hospital
It started early with him admitting
every sick arrival
Lining them up
deep in his hallways
Soon couldn’t help but live his life
stumbling between chronic and acute
manic and depressive
expressive and catatonic
Rough way to live
he tells himself whenever
the crush inside him
becomes nearly intolerable
Followed at once by
a sigh and a shrug
Reminds himself
it was his choice to let them in
His fault entirely
He’s so damn full
of pestilence that he
can’t walk straight or think
healthy thoughts
Looks up at the pictures
of his family on the walls
The founders of the institution
The ones who set the mission
on its path
Trips over an old corpse
Chokes on the facts
It’s not their fault I’m a hospital
he tells himself
I ought to be used to this
by now
The fact that I’m not
is my fault too
He pulls himself up
by the gurneys
Lives his life
on the ICU floor
answering pages
and praying he will code
Dark Matter 